Magic Families, and the problems they cause
by earthgirl3015
Summary: Our magic is the way of the earth and snow and ice
1. Chapter 1

**So the idea for this came from a line I'm planning to use in the final chapter of 'Reunion' (yes, I thought I was done, but apparently people thought Arya and Gendry have a bit more to do, so I'm working on it). Anyway, the line is: 'Our magic is the way of the earth and snow and ice', which naturally got me thinking about what other elemental magics all the other houses would use/have. This chapter is just the Starks, and I am working on the others as we speak/you read. Hope you enjoy. (P.S. Because the books are better - seriously I'll fight you on that - this takes place in book canon)**

1\. Robb was the spitting image of his mother, and so it came as a great surprise to everyone when the red-haired lad turned six and caused the floor of the kitchen to raise him four feet into the air, to grasp the fresh pastries the head chef had placed well out of the greedy boy's reach.

Ned had laughed and used his own power of earth to bring the old stone floor back to what it was, and then placed his hand on his son's shoulder and took him to a small alcove. It was there Ned impressed upon Robb the importance of control, particularly of one's own power, his voice soft but firm, yet a warm smile took any possible sting from his words. Upon hearing the news, Catelyn smiled wanly, and immediately began to question Ned about Robb's magical tutoring. Ned promised to take care of it himself.

(He succeeded. It wasn't enough)

2\. Sansa was the perfect vision of a Tully, and so it came as no surprise to anyone when her magic manifested as the calm flowing water powers passed down through the Riverlands' bloodline. At the age of five she and Jeyne Poole had been playing 'come into my castle' and they'd been paying little attention to the ground. Sansa had nearly stepped into a large puddle, Jeyne squealed at the last moment, and suddenly the water parted around Sansa's foot. Upon seeing this, the girls had gone in search of other water sources; running out to the weirwood tree, although neither were brave enough to look on its face, and making ripples and small waves in the pool there. Catelyn had been overjoyed to have a daughter take after her own blood, and took Sansa aside and explained to her the different ways she could use her powers to better her prospects. She insisted that she be the one who would guide Sansa through life's intricacies.

(She would fail. Miserably)

3\. Bran had Cat's hair and Ned's face. He was a sombre, quiet child, except when he was climbing all over the castle walls. Cat half wished for him to develop earth powers, like his father and brother, so that she need never fear that he would fall and crack his head open on the cold hard ground. But the years passed and Bran did not develop any of the natural Stark powers, neither did he show any sign of the Tully's.

"He may be a late bloomer," Ned comforted Cat, as Bran's seventh birthday had come and gone without a whisper of power, "My grandfather did not develop his magic until he was near a man grown. Bran may be the same. He is a worldly child, even for one so young. There is power yet in him, you'll see." In truth, Bran's quiet unnerved even Ned, but he could feel in his heart that Bran was special.

(If only he'd known how much)

4\. Arya was Ned's daughter through and through, even to the point of picking up a sword and attempting to hack the practice straw men to pieces. Cat was at her wits end trying to keep Arya indoors, knowing that if she turned her head for more than a second, Arya would have scampered out the nearest door and bolted for the practice yard. Knitting could not hold her interest, needlepoint bored her and Cat was beginning to believe that she was purposely getting her courtesies wrong, or trying to turn them into something rude, even from the age of six.

Arya's power, when it finally manifested, shocked everyone however, as even in the Stark line it was unusual for women to gain this particular magic. Arya, Sansa and Jeyne had been sitting near each other in the Hall during luncheon, the two older girls making slight comments to Arya, who responded loudly and coarsely. Catelyn was almost ready to intervene when Jeyne 'accidentally-on-purpose' pushed her glass over in such a way that the contents would spill all over Arya. Even at such a young age, Arya had good reflexes and saw the cup tipping. With a loud shout, she pushed her hand out, she knew not why, and the water froze in mid-air. The shattering of the ice on the table was clearly heard throughout the hall, as all had stopped in wonder, and Cat in horror. Arya looked down at the shattered water and then began to giggle. She turned to the next goblet of wine and dipped her finger into it, bursting out into laughter as it froze solid. Catelyn was on her feet, shouting at Arya to stop dipping her finger into someone else's wine but Arya was already beginning to run, knowing that she was in trouble and not caring a jot. As she passed the large tureen of soup, she again stuck her finger into it and the entire thing froze. She ran out of the hall, laughing all the way. Catelyn sighed and let her head fall into her hands. She could feel herself turning grey.

Ned eventually found her by the weirwood, freezing small patches of the hot spring pool and watching them melt again in the pool's heat. He sat her on his knee and told her that she had inherited a great power, as old as the Stark line, and that she shouldn't be using it for such petty things as freezing the soup. When asked what the power could be used for, Ned hesitated, but said that the Stark lords of ice were capable of doing battle with an entire army of wildlings on their own, armed with daggers of ice and the ability to freeze any liquid with a touch. When asked who the last Stark was to have the power of ice, Ned's face dropped and his eyes brightened.

"Lyanna." He said softly.

(Of course)

5\. Rickon was only four, nowhere near old enough to manifest his powers, but that didn't stop Cat from worrying about him. He was a wild thing, for all that his colouring was Tully; he had the Stark's fabled wolfs blood coursing through him, that much was clear to all. Cat prayed to the Seven that he inherited her soothing water powers, in the hope that it would counter his wildness and bring him back to civilisation. The rest of the castle instead muttered the likeliness that the wild little wolf would inherit either the power of ice, as his sister had, or the power of snow. Bets were taken on the outcome, and the maids shuddered at what a holy little terror that boy would be when he finally manifested.

(They never got to collect on those bets)

6\. Jon hated his gift.

Theon took great pleasure in commenting loudly on whether he was named Snow because he could control it, or whether his name had chosen his power for him. Theon had laughed himself stupid, believing himself quite the wit.

When he was younger, he'd found some joy in it. Arya had loved watching the flakes fall around her, the only thing she found worthy of beauty. She'd taken to touching as many of the snowflakes as she could before they hit the ground. It had been something of a game.

He used it to hide. Whenever Catelyn Stark came looking for Arya, he would whip up a quick snowstorm and they would run off into the forests, or to the weirwood, to catch a little more time away from Winterfell, and the maester's lessons and Catelyn's harsh stare. They were always found though, and Arya told, repeatedly, that she shouldn't consort with bastards.

He used it in anger. When the days had been full of mean glances, of muttered words, of Catelyn's fierce glares, he would walk out into the woods and scream. And as he screamed, the snows would begin to fall, whipping around him as his anger built, a giant screen of snow surrounding him, shielding him, protecting him. But when it was over, when the white lay strewn across the ground, and covered the trees, he felt a loathing rise in him.

What a useless gift. To turn everything white and cold and wet. Snow was hated in the North, it killed crops and cattle and new born babes. It foretold the coming of winter. It was bad luck.

(He did not yet know that he would come to rely on it, when he was beyond any civilisation, when the dead would rise and ancient nightmares would once again stalk the lands and he would _need_ to hide)

+1. Theon could barely remember the sea. He'd been taken from Pike so young that he hardly remembered his father's face anymore, or what the Seastone Chair looked like. Yet for all that, the blood of the Greyjoys flowed through him, and with it, the powers of salt and iron. He had the blacksmith tip his arrows with iron points, and they never missed their mark so long as he used them. On those days when he had little and less to do, he would visit the forge and feel the song of the iron flowing through his veins as it was moulded into Stark weapons. He had not used his true salt powers in so long that he had near forgotten the feel of them, how he could ride the waves as easily as a fish. What little he could use, he used on the grounds of Winterfell, when the cold winds chilled him, when the maids had scowled and spat at him, when the Tully Bitch had glared at him one to many times, he would find a small patch in the forest and pour his anger into the soil.

"We do not sow." He whispered, as the grass shrivelled and died beneath his gaze. (Indeed, they do not)

 **A/N. So...any good? Leave a comment if you liked it that much and have fun speculating what powers the other houses will have. I'm sure some are fairly obvious, but I particularly enjoyed coming up with the Lannisters. Heads up (possible expectation inflation) I may have somehow made Tywin worse.**


	2. Chapter 2

p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Tywin Lannister is infamous for his golden touch by the time he turns thirteen. Joanna smiles in sharp amusement as he gilds roses and lilies and violets with a simple touch of his fingers for her, although he never pretends to be seeking her favour – they have been promised since they were children. He merely goes through the expected gestures of affection, but all the while his eyes are sharp and his mouth rarely smiles. In time, he comes to love her, but in the beginning, she is yet another thing to bring under his golden sway. (Lan himself was said to have this gift. This surprises no one)/span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Joanna is a golden beauty, but with no gifts of her own. This is an unfortunate consequence of too much inbreeding in a highborn house – they are the rulers because they have their magic – but Joanna's beauty is enough that it is forgiven. She is given to Tywin, first to keep his focus on the family, and then in an attempt to curb his arrogance. However, within a half year of their marriage, Joanna has Tywin smiling and drowning the Reynes after he gilds their children before their very eyes. The statues are placed at strategic places around the Rock, two of the most terrified looking children – a boy of three and a girl of six – are placed at the entrance, to greet any who would attempt to overthrow House Lannister, their eternally golden mouths stretched in silent screams. The girl's tears are still visible on her cheeks./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Cersei is Joanna's double, her poisonous green eyes crafty from an early age. Unlike her mother, her beauty is enhanced by her gifts. When she should be practicing her needlepoint, she stares into the mirror, soothing out her hair and ensuring her skin is perfect. She wields her beauty like Jaime will wield a sword; her smile can cut blossoming maids and promising men to shreds, but her eyes burn as she is kept away in a dusty room, only allowed needles./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Jaime is Joanna's true son; he has no powers at all. Tywin would have understandably been aggrieved by this, had Jaime not picked up a sword at age four and found his true calling. He trains day and night to make his father proud. Tywin at first attempted to claim Jaime's skill were an ancient blood magic rarely seen in his line, but even his infamous golden touch does not quiet the facts, this time. /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Jaime's only respite is spent with his sister, who does not seem to care that he has no powers, when her own are so deadly. Their time is at first playful, and then it becomes desperate, as they cling to each other in ways siblings should not./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Tywin's own strength is the only reason Jaime becomes a Knight of the Kingsguard. Tywin is a threat to Aerys, and so he must be neutralised. Jaime kneels in the belief that it is his sword arm and his bravery which won him the white. Aerys' smirk soon puts an end to that thought./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Tyrion has, to his mind, the perfect embodiment of the Lannister gift whilst at the same time being perfectly useless. When he is three, he is found playing with an uncut ruby the size of his fist. Cersei pockets it almost immediately, but not before Tywin asks where it came from. There is a small tremor in the earth, and suddenly diamonds, emeralds, topaz and more rubies, all uncut and unpolished, come pouring out of the earth between his stubby little legs. Cersei looks on with twin looks of disgust and greed, banked in the green of her eyes. Tywin is forced to concede that Tyrion is a Lannister after all. Jaime laughs and his eyes never touch the imperfect jewels but they never leave his brother's face, which is confused and slightly scared. /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Tyrion makes a habit, once he's old enough to understand how to win, or buy, a lady's affections, of leaving an uncut jewel on the pillows of those he likes best, and merely a piece of gold on those that were adequate. He is generous with his gift. He has no reason not to, at first./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Then Tysha./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"He never gave her any trinkets. Not even to win her affections. Jaime is the one who saves the day, with his sword. Tyrion could not have fought them, as there are times that even jewels, especially ones that seem dull and useless until taken to a jeweller, will not sate bloodlust. But he is the one she picked. He is the one she married, and was happy with, on that little pig farm./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Then Tywin./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"He almost makes Tyrion pay her with the jewels of the earth. But on this one thing, if only this one thing, Tyrion does not crack. Tywin instead picks up a pebble and gilds it and tosses it a Tysha's feet once Tyrion is done. And then she is gone./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"He does not give jewels now. Not as rewards. His mind is sharper, his heart as hard as diamond. He does not use his gift for such soft things now. But in the dark of the Vale, when he and Bronn are set upon by the hill tribes, he offers them the earth that they stand on, and then shows them just how rich it is. /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p 


	3. Chapter 3

p class="MsoNoSpacing"strongspan style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"A/N: Look, I love GOT guys, and I'm sure there are plenty purists out there that want the back story of every single Targayren kings' powers...but I ain't got time to do that, nor do I particularly care to. They all had some form of fire and used it accordingly. I'm still thinking up the Blackfyres so I may swing back to that, but don't hold your breath. Anyway, how was Tywin? Do you think I made him worse? And enjoy./span/strong/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing" /p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"They came riding on creatures of fire and air, and so it was to nobody's surprise that the Targaryens shared the same powers as their dragons. Indeed, the rumour for centuries was that not only did Aegon bed his sisters, but his beasts as well, which resulted in him obtaining their gifts for his own. /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"The dragons kept the line of the Targaryens strong, even as the creatures themselves became smaller, and were killed in battle and murdered. /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"When the dragons finally vanished, it was not only the powers that kept the Targaryens on the throne, but the madness too. /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Aerys had more fire than air and he delighted in it. It was his flame that set Rickard Stark alight. It was his flame that murdered so many lords, ladies and smallfolk, and indeed, his flame that would have engulfed them all, had a single man who wore a white cloak not taken issue with that. Aerys would no doubt have been pleased to know that even in death, his flames still burned, burned away any shred of honour this single man might have had. Over and over and over again. Until a maid in armour and the sea in her eyes began to quench those flames./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Rhaegar had more air than fire and from the time he could pick up a lyre, it showed. He was a scholarly boy, all agreed, handsome and courtly, but no great warrior in the making. Among other houses this would not have been tolerated of a first son and heir, but Rhaegar was a Targaryen and they did as they pleased. /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Rhaegar had more air than fire and even when he came from the library, with an air of determination about him and said, "It seems I must be a warrior," there was not one person who did not hear the resignation in his voice. He was graceful and quick on the battlefield, the perfect image of a knight and prince. He took to jousting well enough, but his sword strokes lacked strength, his cuts bit lightly and his parries were weak at best./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Rhaegar had more air than fire and on the Trident, it showed. /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Viserys had the madness and none of the powers. He knew this from a young age, but instead of acknowledging it, he pushed it to the back of his mind and bullied his little sister into behaving by simply pretending that she had not angered him enough to use his power on her. He knew what he was, and he whispered it to himself every night, when his mind recalled the day spent begging, the empty eyes of passers-by, who did not spare him a glance. His madness showed them all screaming as they burned in his fire. em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"His /emfire. Because he was a dragon. And dragons have fire when awoken./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Daenerys had fire and air and had not truly feared her brother since she was nine. She knew he did not have the powers that she did, that it angered him – that it 'woke the dragon' – when she practiced in front of him. And so, she learned to listen well for his footsteps and made the candles in her room dance and the sheets of her bed billow at night. /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"The day he sold, no, wedded her to Khal Drogo, she began to fear again. What would her new husband think of her powers? Illyrio called on her to demonstrate them at her wedding, and there was much screeching and shouting as she called the winds around her, and made the fire pits flare, and tried not to notice Viserys' jaw clenching beside her. em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"He cannot touch me now/em she reminded herself. But her new husband did./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"His own power was a mastery of water. Ironic, some said, for the Dothraki Sea was usually so dry. It was this power that kept his khalasar together, however, leading them from watering hole to watering hole, and kept is as strong as it was. /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Drogo was as ruthless in his power as he was in battle. When he touched her, she could feel his deeper probing, his power feeling the blood in her veins. She feared it at first, cowering from his intrusive, personal touch at every turn, until – tired of being used as a brood mare – she turned to him and stole the breath from his lungs. Not wholly, but enough that he reared back, mouth forced open, his eyes wide in shock, at the little white-haired girl who would dare to defy his touch. She kept him there, on the verge of unconsciousness, and touched him in return, mounted him and took him, his breath only returning to normal when she had satisfied herself./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"He never touched her blood again./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Daenerys was air and fire and as dragon song filled the air, she gloried in it./span/p 


	4. Chapter 4

p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"The Storm Lords. How true it was./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"When Robert was angry, it was said the clouds darkened ominously and thunder rumbled. When he was happy, his laughter was the thunder instead, only slightly less dangerous. He was a maiden's wet dream come to life and he enjoyed it for all he was worth, sweeping through like the force of nature he was, snatching food and ale and women and leaving as fast as a summer squall. Ned, with his stern face and earth-bound power, was supposed to stabilise him. Even as children, he was the stone Robert's unquenchable power earthed itself in whenever he was agitated. But there was no taming him. Not truly. /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Until Lyanna./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Her doe eyes and ice froze him, in a way no other person could. When he walked beside her, boasting of how he'd electrified an entire battlefield with his lightning, she scoffed and froze the stone beneath him, leaving him in a heap on the floor. He stared after her, his mouth hanging open. Nobody had ever been quite so unaffected by him before. He craved it./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"When Rhaegar stole her, the true extent of his power shocked everyone. Thunderclouds extended all the way from the Eyrie to the Westerlands, from Riverrun to Dorne. Continuous rain made travelling miserable for everyone, even his own army, but his anger refused to die. When he and the Targaryen Prince met on the Trident, the largest scramble was to stay out of the water. Lightning lanced through the sky, the ground crackled, and wind squalls sprayed water everywhere. It seemed that Robert had enclosed them in a ring of lightning, which the Prince's airy powers could do nothing about. When Rhaegar's chest plate had been cleaved in, and his rubies dripped slowly into the Trident, he called down a lightning strike that was so fierce it knocked everybody to their knees. Rhaegar needed no funeral./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Stannis was a cold hard man. It surprised no one that his power was hard as the rock Storms End was forged from. What did surprise everyone was his use of it. Robert was hardly quiet, in his glory. Stannis, for all that he was more subtle, seemed in his own way to be almost as sensitive as Renly. At the smallest slight, a light dusting of hail would fall. When he was given Dragonstone, in place of Storms End, he said nothing to anybody, but left in a swell of hailstorms that hadn't been seen in years. On the days his temper got the best of him, you could see the storm clouds all the way out over Blackwater Bay./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"But for all his bluster, and what small bluster it seemed, compared to Robert, Stannis never did anything. He was a Storm Lord, but without the fiery, untameable heat that Robert had in abundance, or even the small audacious rebellions that Renly proved capable of. He just sat there, on his little stony island, in an old mouldy castle and did nothing. /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Of course, when a storm cloud rises on the horizon, no one ever expects hail./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Renly was a sweet child of summer. He was more likely to smile fully, walk softly, dance prettily, than hack a dummy to pieces, drink himself stupid in a tavern or pass judgement on a man's life. /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Although his taste was exquisite, he wanted only the simple things in life; fine clothes, a pretty sword to twinkle at his waist (although rest assured, he knew how to use it), a beautiful horse and, as he passed into adulthood, good companions. His power, when it manifested, surprised none by being the least of the powers the Baratheon line could spout. Renly found he didn't much mind. Robert's lightning was impressive, of course, and even Stannis' hail was not to be trifled with. But Renly liked to hear the sound of rain gurgling in the gutters, to feel the droplets bursting upon impact with the soil, to feel the world around him rejoice at the life-giving water. /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"It certainly made him more approachable than the other two. Soft Renly, good for a laugh and a witty word, the calm one in a house of bluster. And when he met the good Tyrells and found them to be exactly the friends he had been looking for, one special rose in particular, he took to visiting them as often as courtesy would allow. He made sure to laugh off any insinuations about roses and rain mixing, however. Until it was convenient, of course./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Mya had no use for rain. The Eyrie was bad enough with just the wind, although the Lord Arryn was the only one who could maybe lift a gale, if he had the strength. The rain just made trekking between the castles even more difficult. Nevertheless, the power marked her, as nothing else could, as a Baratheon bastard. Not that her father wanted anything to do with her. Bastards had their uses, could rise as high as any lord, but for whatever reason (she suspected the queen) he never came to see her again. Ah well, she thought as she trundled up the mountain again, there's worse lives, and kicked the mule on./span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Edric was thirteen and still hadn't manifested. Most people had begun to accept that he probably wouldn't, but not the boy. He walked the ramparts of Storms End every day, lifting his hands out towards the bay, feeling for even a shred of power. Still nothing. He'd just have to try again tomorrow. /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNoSpacing"span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif;"Gendry was a quiet boy, even if his hammer wasn't. His master couldn't complain of his work, although he had plenty to say of his manner. Gendry just bent to the anvil and continued hammering away, the metal crackling with every stroke. Funny that; even when the skies were clear, the air around Gendry's forge seemed to be full of static energy, just waiting to be released. /span/p 


End file.
